


Baptized by Fire

by LegendaryArmor



Category: Fallout - Fandom, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendaryArmor/pseuds/LegendaryArmor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two people with clashing backgrounds are pushed together during a war that could consume the Mojave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I began in spring 2011 and will be finishing now with the completion of my story for the Fallout Big Bang.

Hidden Valley was close.

That thought was one of many that screamed into Arcade's mind as the Fiend members advanced on him; his feet inched closer and closer to the edge of one of the small cliff rises just outside the fenced-off area. His plasma defender, worthless without any ammo, rested in his clammy grip - he held it in front of him like some sort of shield, wishing more than anything that he was somewhere, anywhere else but here.

The tallest of the three criminals smiled, the butcher knife in his grip glinting in the fading sunlight. Behind him, the two others hefted tire irons. Below the rise, he could hear Veronica and the courier, Isaac, fighting for their lives. Arcade's Ripper lay with them below, lost when one of the attackers had knocked it from his grasp.

Isaac, Veronica and ED-E wouldn't make it up the rise in time. He knew it, and he knew all of the outcomes, and knew he only had one ridiculous option.

As the three men lunged, Arcade turned his back to them and jumped.

* * *

 

Veronica's gauntlet practically sang as she broke the man's jaw, his body going limp as ED-E followed up with its laser. Down below, Isaac took aim with his revolver and as his shots rang out, one more body fell to the ground. The last man standing rushed the Brotherhood scribe, one last desperate measure before he met his end.

Staring over the cliff edge, the woman winced as she caught sight of Arcade, his right arm laying at an angle no limb could naturally bend at. His eyes were closed, and he said nothing, but she could tell he was at least alive by the incredibly upset look on his face. Isaac knelt beside him, a stimpak between his teeth. "I'm going to need to cut your sleeve off. We can sew it back later."

"I appreciate the concern for my incredibly pristine lab coat, but I'm a little more worried about my broken arm," he seethed back, eyes glassy with pain. By now, Veronica had made her way back down the cliff, ED-E beeping and hovering just above her head.

"Nice jump." She said it as though she was trying to be funny, but the concern and guilt in her voice was clear. "The bunker isn't far. Fifteen minutes tops, what with you being a gimp now. We can get you fixed up a little better there."

He didn't bother to respond. Someone with ties to the Enclave walking straight into a haven for the Brotherhood of Steel - if only they understood. Veronica didn't even know about his past, and Isaac had told him he'd be fine, because he always had been. But Arcade knew himself, and he knew his smashed up arm was going to be a lot more comfortable than being surrounded on all sides by paladins of the order.

At least, that's what he thought until Isaac set the broken bone.

* * *

 

The trip to the bunker felt like it took forever. Each step brought on pain, the stimpak and makeshift splint and sling doing little for the agony. Sweat trickled down his face, and he was almost glad when they finally found the location, beginning a descent downwards. That relief quickly vanished when they came face to face with a Brotherhood paladin by the name of Ramos.

Veronica cracked her jokes at him and Isaac gave a friendly nod and smile, but Arcade had nothing in him for pleasantries. The paladin's eyes ran over him, scrutinizing - "The Elder will wish to see you immediately," he said, speaking to all of them. "Afterward, I suggest you get your friend some medical attention, Veronica." Arcade rather thought that some medical attention was a little more urgent, but he wasn't about to argue - especially not with a broken arm and a gun with no ammo.

As they walked, he tried taking in every detail he could of his surroundings, but quickly became uneasy as every person they passed had an overwhelmingly curious stare - especially towards the injured doctor. His arm radiated pain, the stimpak long gone, and all the walking definitely wasn't helping. Isaac gave him a sympathetic pat on his good shoulder, but remained quiet.

Eventually, they reached a wider, circular chamber, where a strangely refined man sat behind a crescent desk. He waved them over, a small smile on his face when he saw Veronica. He frowned when his gaze fell on Arcade, and the doctor found himself confused by the look in those gray-blue eyes. "Your friend is injured. Why didn't you get him treated before coming to speak with me?"

Veronica blew a stray strand of hair from her face. "Come on, Elder. You know the stick up Ramos's ass can't go any further."

A wry smile tugged at the man's lips. "Our discussion can wait. Take him to medical first, if you would."

Maybe Arcade didn't know him, but he thought he liked this guy already.

* * *

 

The next few hours passed him by in a daze. He'd been taken to a room with several beds and medical equipment, dosed up on meds, and had his arm examined before he promptly fell blissfully unconscious.

He woke a while later, his head pounding and his vision blurred with pain. Looking over to the side, he saw a woman sitting beside a terminal, dressed in dull robes. She smiled as she caught him watching her, and stood quickly, dusting off her sleeve. "About time you woke up. How do you feel?"

"Like I broke my arm," he whispered, his voice rough.

She chuckled, not offended in the slightest. "Here. Have some water, and let me get another stimpak on you. I'll be back in a moment; Elder McNamara wanted to know when you woke up."

Arcade accepted the bottle she handed him, lying still as she worked quickly, but his eyes didn't leave her. "...Elder McNamara? What about the people I came in with - where are they?"

"Oh, the courier and Veronica? They left a while ago. Out trying to resolve something McNamara asked them for."

A sharp anxiety settled into his chest. "They left? How long are they going to be gone?"

"Probably a couple weeks. Don't worry your head over it, the Elder said he's more than happy to let you rest up here while they're off adventuring. Anyway! I'll be right back, I really have to let him know you're up." She stepped out of the room, and completely missed the uneasy look that had invaded Arcade's expression. His arm was broken, and he was alone, tucked far away in a compound full of people that probably wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in his face if they even heard him _mention_ the Enclave.

He was just starting to wonder how the situation could get any more awkward when the Elder himself walked into the room a moment later, pulling up a chair next to his bed and sitting down, looking the doctor right in the eyes.

"Well, hello there, Arcade. Isaac and Veronica have told me all about you."


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sure tales of my exploits were beyond thrilling."

The Elder smiled slightly at Arcade's poorly veiled uneasiness, but it wasn't unkind. "I know your name, and you're from the Followers - yet skilled enough to 'melt a Legionnaire's face off with plasma at ten yards, no sweat'."

"Veronica," he guessed, slightly amused.

"Impressive, nonetheless. I haven't properly introduced myself - I'm Nolan McNamara, though you obviously know my station already."

"Forgive me for not shaking your hand."

The other man chuckled. "It isn't often we see injured doctors, Arcade."

"And most doctors don't jump off of cliffs, Nolan."

Despite Arcade's barbs, Nolan's smile only grew wider. Something about it, something about _him_ , seemed... raw. On edge. "Perhaps. But then again, most of them also can't melt a Legionnaire's face off." He reached into a deep pocket in his robes, pulling out two old, battered books. "Isaac mentioned you enjoy reading. Forgive me if it's a bit presumptuous, but I found two I thought you may like. Something to do while you rest." He stood, placing them gently beside Arcade's good arm.

For once, the doctor couldn't think of anything sarcastic to say. After an empty, awkward moment of silence, of Nolan's observant blue eyes watching him, he settled for "Thanks."

A small quirk of those lips again. "It was nothing. Rest well." He left the room as quietly as he'd arrived, and Arcade was once more alone. He glanced at the books, curious and hopeful - and felt his own real smile for the first time in a long time.

Pre-war books on failed socioeconomic theories. Maybe Nolan McNamara wasn't just a pretty face.

* * *

 

Arcade read through the first of the books as rabidly as a starving man consumed bread. It wasn't as if he could go anywhere, anyway - and he wasn't too keen on being talkative with the Brotherhood members when he was bedridden and in pain. It'd be hard enough even at full capacity for functioning. But the books gave him something to focus on - something other than his arm, other than his fear. He liked it best when they left him alone, and the woman who had been taking care of him previously never tried to make much conversation.

However, it didn't stop Nolan from dropping by again that next night.

"Feeling any better, Arcade?" He took a seat in the same chair, his posture relaxed, easy. Unguarded. It was surprising to the Follower, but then he realized he probably wasn't much of a threat.

"I've certainly been worse." Glancing at Nolan, he tapped his fingers on the books sitting near his leg. "...Did they tell you what I like to read? No, you know - never mind, that's a stupid question. It's just such a good guess, I-"

"You're an intelligent man, Arcade."

"-was caught off guard, and - excuse me, what?"

Nolan shifted in the incredibly uncomfortable looking chair, crossing his legs at the ankles and looking completely unbothered by the sad excuse for a seat. "You are. You'd have to be, to be a doctor and a researcher. Yet you're also quite competent in combat. It seemed like the right choice."

"Careful. If you keep talking like that, I might begin to believe you." He averted his eyes, unable to look into Nolan's gaze. It was too perceptive, too intelligent. It scared him. "Seriously, though, thanks. For the books, I mean - well, the compliments, too, but - especially the books. God, I'm an ass, I'm sorry."

Nolan just laughed. It was quiet, contained... and it sounded a little sad. Or was that just his overactive imagination at work? "You should really relax, my friend. You're in no danger here." As he said it, he placed another book beside the two Arcade had already been reading.

 _Says the Brotherhood Elder to the son of an Enclave officer. I bet he wouldn't be giving me books in bed and walking himself down here these last two days if he knew that._ "It's a habit. It's different here." He kept staring at the wall, unable to meet those blue, blue eyes. "Thanks for being so... welcoming. Despite the whole paranoid living underground deal you've got going on, I mean."

He missed the mixture of frustration and sadness that flickered across the Elder's face, too busy staring at anything but the man beside him. "It isn't very often that we have the chance to stop being that way, these days. I suppose I should be thanking you - not the other way around."

That got his attention. Arcade's green eyes finally found their way back to Nolan's face. "Thanking me? For what?"

"For giving me the opportunity to be the person I wish I still was." With that remark, he stood and stretched, not giving the other man the time to reply. "Rest well."

And just like that, he left once more.

* * *

 

Arcade's concentration on the books wasn't as intense as it had been the day before, and many hours passed still before he fell asleep. Those curious words kept turning over in his head. _The person I wish I still was._ He stared at the ceiling, drowsiness finally settling in. _At least he had something in his past to be proud of._

Even after just two days, he was already more than sick of lying in bed. The books certainly helped, but getting up and taking a walk would certainly be nice. As firm as the physician here was, though, he was lucky to even be allowed to use the bathroom and bathe himself (carefully) without supervision. There was still no real conversation to be had besides the bits he'd shared with Nolan, and he'd grown used to Veronica's chattering over the last month he'd spent with her and Isaac.

He found himself almost glad for the distraction when Nolan stopped by for the third night in a row, more books in hand. This time, maybe he'd try staring at the wall a little less. Passing over the first two volumes he'd received, he felt his resolve take a hit when the man asked him a question, quite innocently and without any trace of suspicion in his voice.

"So tell me, Arcade. Where did you learn to fire a weapon so well? From what I can tell, it's not something you'd pick up on in the Followers."

As nonchalantly as possible, he gave a typically vague answer while mentally praying his heart would beat just a little less quickly. "Oh, you know. Dads and their guns and things. The Mojave's not exactly the safest place. If you can't defend yourself, you're not doing yourself any favors."

"That's quite true, I suppose." He glanced at his hands, flexing them. "I started training from the time I was old enough to figure out which end of a weapon to point at someone else. Not that you'd know it by looking at me now."

 _Oh, I don't know. You're the leader of an incredibly dangerous organization of people that pray to their armor. I just expected you to be a big teddy bear._ "It's not surprising. I think I'd be more shocked if you actually weren't adept at it." He congratulated himself - he'd only had to force his eyes back to Nolan's twice. "What kind of weapons do you use, anyway? I mean, I know you probably use a lot - what are your favorites?"

"Well, I have a particular love of the sword."

"That's... I'm sorry, what?"

Nolan smiled at him. This would be an interesting talk.

* * *

 

The conversations and visits were like clockwork, every night after Nolan's work was finished. Arcade found himself less tense with each one, but towards the end of the sixth day couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Why do you come see me like this, every night? Not that I mind. It's nice to talk to someone about something that doesn't involve the world falling to pieces."

Nolan placed a new book on the bed, rising again to leave. "I suppose... because it's nice to talk to someone about something that doesn't involve the world falling to pieces." Tucking the books Arcade had finished with into his robe, he turned his back. "Rest easy." And just like that, he left again, closing the door quietly on the way out.

It was another thing he turned over and over in his head. Brotherhood leader or not, maybe he wasn't so different from Nolan.

Or maybe he was just fooling himself.

* * *

 

Finally.

Grinning, the physician handed him a bottle of water. "I can tell you're probably sick of lying in that bed, sunshine. The good news is, you're well enough to walk around. And you've got free reign of the bunker - wherever you want, you go on ahead and go there if you're interested." He certainly didn't need to be told twice - ten minutes later, he was wandering around the training halls, past the scribes working on terminals, watching everything with interest. He did his best to bury the whisper of anxiety in his chest, ignore the curious stares or meet them with a small smile, the way Isaac always did - though he was certain he probably looked more uncomfortable than anything.

He found himself looping back around, heading towards the medical area again when he realized he was close to the Elder's office. He peered through the tunnel, mentally weighing the idea of going to see Nolan at work when Arcade wasn't actually in blinding amounts of pain when a very large, very unpleasant looking man in enormous armor brusquely approached him.

"So, you're the outsider that's been given leave to wander around freely." He looked at Arcade with barely concealed disdain. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess. Name's Hardin. I'm the Head Paladin of this chapter, and I think we might be able to help each other out."

Arcade's curiosity was almost entirely overwhelmed with irritation, but he wasn't foolish enough to lose his head. "I'm listening."

"Look, I don't know what the Elder asked your friend to do a week ago, but I can tell you this chapter is in trouble, and he's at the center of it." _Your finesse boggles the mind, Hardin. Extra points for being such a smooth talker._ "You've been here long enough to know about the lockdown. Only small patrols leave at night, and most of the chapter has been sealed in here for years. The few that were outside when this was initiated have been forbidden from returning. Morale's down the drain, and none of our people see combat outside of simulations. Your injuries were the first serious thing our doctor has had a chance to treat in years. And it's all because of the Elder's orders. The only chance for us to change is if a new Elder is installed."

"Oh, I see." The curiosity was long gone. "You don't like the way things are, and so you probably want to elect yourself, right? Because you'd just do a much better job. I especially like the subterfuge part, by the way, asking an _outsider_ to help you with this."

Hardin visibly bristled. "What I'm _doing_ is giving you a chance to help me save this chapter before McNamara drives it into the ground."

Arcade turned and began to walk, not giving the man a second glance. "Leave me out of this. You go chasing your dreams of glory alone."

 _Before McNamara runs it into the ground, my ass. What a load of Brahmin shit._ But as he sat there in the darkness of that room, beside the books the Elder had lent him, he felt a burden on his mind.

Hardin had been right about one thing - Nolan wasn't doing the order any good. Arcade certainly wasn't going to overthrow him, or anything so nonsensical, but maybe when Isaac and Veronica returned, he could work with them to find a way to open Nolan's eyes. He certainly doubted he could do it alone.

Laughing in the darkness, he realized that he, of all people, was actually concerned about helping a chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel survive.

_C'est la vie._


	3. Chapter 3

"Arcade, you're looking well. How has your arm been? I'm afraid I forgot to ask, the last time we met."

He smiled briefly as Nolan took his usual seat, doing his best to forget the events of the confrontation with Hardin earlier that day. He didn't know how to approach it, didn't want to bring it up yet - and didn't want that awkward conversation to replace the rather pleasant ones they'd been having every day. "It's healing pretty well, actually. Thanks. You know, uh... for everything."

The Elder chuckled. "For everything? But I haven't done anything at all."

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you have. Patching me up, letting me walk around like a drunken tourist on the Strip that can't keep their eyes off of anything and everything. Bringing me books every night. It's ridiculously hospitable. Cute, even."

"...Cute?"

"Forget I said that part. Let's pretend I'm still some kind of respectable, professional doctor."

Nolan's smile seemed a little more intense than usual. Or maybe that was Arcade's overactive, desperate imagination. "Of course, Arcade."

The researcher wanted to hit himself in the face. Smooth. Incredibly so.

* * *

 

Over the next several days, Arcade developed what could be called a routine. Wake, bathe, eat while reading. Read some more. Wander the halls, avoid the Elder's office since Hardin seemed to hover around it like a junkie waiting for their fix. Go back to his bed. Read and then eat again. Wait for Nolan to visit. It was the last bit, there, that he realized he was looking forward to the most. All the months of killing and survival and desperate plans after meeting up with Isaac and his crew - all they followed were years of researching wastes of time, healing people that would just as soon rob you as thank you. And before that?

Hiding. Lots and lots of it. And plenty of blood.

There was something relaxing about staying here in the Brotherhood bunker, reading and investigating everything he was curious about. And at the end of each night, there was someone who wasn't suffering terrible injury or addiction, who wasn't trying to shove a gun in his face, who wasn't asking him to help save thousands of lives that came by just to chat for the sake of chatting. And maybe it didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes.

Very easy on the eyes, in fact.

At this point, it had been fifteen days since Isaac and Veronica had left with ED-E on Nolan's requests - to locate a few missing paladins, or their holotapes if they'd met their end, as Nolan had explained, and fixing the airway issues for the bunker. Arcade realized they were due back soon - but he felt a strange tinge of sadness at it. Here he was, finally getting along with someone like a normal person, and it was almost over already... and he still hadn't said a word about Hardin. He kept putting it off, convincing himself it wasn't the right time. Maybe it was best to talk to Veronica and Isaac, first - especially Veronica. She'd probably have a decent idea on how to approach it.

"Arcade?"

His head snapped up as Nolan entered the room, a small tray in hand and a smile on his face. "I hope I'm not bothering you, Arcade. I finished early, and thought I should stop by with your food. Perhaps we could dine together."

Laying the book on historical remedies that had been forgotten in his lap aside, Arcade blinked, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. "You're sure? Not that I mind. I'd just think you'd have better ways or more important people to spend so much time with."

Nolan's laugh came easily. "If I'm not busy, there's no sense in pretending I am for the sake of others. Besides, you know by now that I enjoy speaking with you. You're very interesting, and quite the intellectual."

"I'll agree to disagree. I'm really very boring... you'd get better stories out of a Freeside junkie."

Nolan's smile only grew wider. "Well, agreeing to disagree it is."

He left hours later, a new book beside Arcade's bed. He turned it over in his hands, reading the front - _18th Century Diplomacy & Theoretical Practices_. Worn and faded, like all of the ones Nolan had brought him before. Yet - out of the yellowed pages, a small white piece of paper was protruding, out of place and definitely noticeable. It certainly wasn't part of the volume itself. Curiously, Arcade opened to that part, the book staying open on his lap as he unfolded the - note? Yes. A note. That was definitely his name on it, written in small, neat letters. His heart beating just a little faster, he began to read, but it didn't take him long.

_I don't wish for you to leave when they return. Not yet._

More than a little intrigued, he slipped the paper back between the pages and fell back onto the bed, throwing his arms over his eyes. It was touching, sure, and it made him think of those cool blue eyes and that slow, lonely smile in ways that made him feel like a hopeless teenager. But at the same time, he felt a rising frustration somewhere in the back of his thoughts. Nolan had his entire chapter locked down like they were prisoners, wasting away. He was suffering for his own irrational fear of the NCR, of losing anyone else he cared about. Arcade wanted desperately to do something about it... but all he could do now was wait for Veronica.

His heart twisted as he admitted silently to himself that he wasn't doing this purely out of concern for the members of the Brotherhood as a whole - nothing quite so altruistic. He was far more concerned about the crumbling man at the epicenter, and he didn't really care to think about why.

Later, he woke to Veronica sitting down in the chair Nolan generally used during his visits, ED-E chirping happily above his head as Isaac leaned against a wall, grinning. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."

Arcade gave the courier his best glare, looking over at Veronica and trying to pretend he didn't want to launch a missile at the eyebot. "How did it go? We can talk about my incredibly dangerous, harrowing adventures after you both tell me yours."

The scribe laughed, but it sounded a little forced. "Well, we got the Elder his holotapes."

"So the paladins, they were all... I see. What happens now?"

She shrugged, and Isaac just stared at the ceiling as she talked. "We're going back out to find some scouts and get their reports. I was... well, I tried convincing him to open the bunker back up. Had a couple of neat things to show him. Fancy, helpful tech. But he wasn't having any of it. I'm hoping if the scouts have something good for us to tell him -"

Arcade sat up, much more attentive. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that."

"You did? I'm surprised. But somehow, I'm not. You get people to talk a lot more than you realize, even if you're the biggest shut in I've ever -"

"Yes, thank you, I do so enjoy compliments. As I was saying. I don't think fancy tech is going to convince him of anything. It's the NCR he's really afraid of. But we have to act, because certain surly men in large suits of armor happen to want to remove him from his position, which is definitely not good."

Veronica's look was both impressed and suspicious. "That makes sense... HELIOS One made him a lot quieter than he used to be. What's this about someone trying to remove him? And how the hell did you find all this out, anyway? Don't tell me - you used your dazzling diplomacy skills and became the Elder's personal doctor, overcoming incredible personal hardships on a path both romantic and dangerous."

Arcade rolled his eyes. "Are you listening to this, Isaac? I swear. Hardin - he asked me to help him oust Nolan. And I'm pretty sure he wants to take his place." The scribe's face scrunched up, like she smelled something bad. "Exactly. If we can find something showing the NCR is no threat, I'm sure we could do something. Especially considering what we've been planning this entire time."

"That... that could actually work."

"Speaking of which," Isaac interrupted, "the NCR is focusing a lot of their attention on prepping now. We have maybe two months at the most before the Legion makes their final move to the Dam. We've got the Securitrons there, and with House gone, we can make that final push to get the NCR out afterwards. They don't have any idea what's going on - they still think they're in total control." His smile grew wider. "Even if we can't get the Elder to open the bunker _before_ the Dam battle, I'm positive we could do it _after_ Vegas is independent."

"Good. We're making good time. What do you think, Veronica? Do you think Nolan will go along with this?"

But the expression on her face had suddenly become a lot more thoughtful, pensive. "Nolan, huh?"

"Who else? Of course, Nolan."

A smirk stole across her face. "Not Elder, or McNamara. No, nothing so respectful for the mighty Arcade Gannon."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing. Go back to sleep, princess. We're going to go bother the Elder, and then we're leaving later tonight after a long day of R&R. Feel free to join us if you can stop reading for a moment, all right?" And with that, she sauntered out of the room, Isaac following her and laughing quietly to himself.

Arcade fell back on the bed, turning to face the wall, deep in thought. They had a plan. A damn good one, at that - and two months or so before the war at Hoover Dam broke out in full. With any luck, he'd need a lot less time than that. They still had the Brotherhood scouts to look for, to collect reports from. And already prepared so well for the war, all they really had to do now was tie up a few loose ends before the fighting truly began.

A selfish thought wormed its way through his head. _Two months that I can stay in this bunker._ He rolled over and grabbed for the book beside his bed, opening the note and re-reading it for the thousandth time. He had become friends with the man, that was undeniable. And maybe this was Nolan's way of reaching out when he felt he had no one else to turn to.

Or maybe Arcade was just thinking too much into it.

* * *

 

Isaac and Veronica didn't seem too surprised when Arcade mentioned, apologetically, that his arm wasn't quite back up to speed - which wasn't completely untrue. "I figured I would stay here until you get back again. Besides, I'm obviously doing a decent job of providing information to something we all have a - varying degree of interest in."

"Oh, sure. You stay here in the bunker surrounded by paladins while we wander the Mojave. That sounds like a totally fair trade," Veronica replied.

"I have to see Hardin every day," Arcade pointed out.

"Actually, I wasn't being sarcastic for once - amazing, I know. Anyway, we really have to go. No time to waste." Isaac had begun to walk out of the room after giving Arcade a little wave, but Veronica stayed behind for a moment. "Hey. Whatever it is you're doing, keep doing it. I think the Elder seems better when I talk to him. Like he hates his entire existence a little less fervently." She gave him a thumbs-up and bounded out of the room, leaving Arcade blissfully alone again.

Nolan found him early again that night, another tray of food in one of his hands and a small smile on his face. He took his seat as normal, his eyes never leaving Arcade's, the tiniest of smiles on his lips.

"I see you received my note."


	4. Chapter 4

"I'd be pretty embarrassed if I'd missed it." Arcade took a grateful drink from the bottle of water Nolan passed him. "Besides. If I left, what other intelligent men with obviously bleached hair would bring me books and food every night?"

Nolan feigned offense, though it wasn't very convincing through his barely contained laughter. "How dare you. My looks are all natural, Doctor. Jealousy is a disease."

"Oh, please. Dark eyebrows, and smooth skin - you're trying to pull off some kind of wise, majestic look. How old are you, anyway?"

"What an incredibly rude question!" the Elder laughed.

"No, that's okay, let me guess - eighteen? Nineteen. Okay, twenty one..."

* * *

 

They stayed there like that, talking with each other for hours, long past when they'd finished eating. Arcade was almost sad to see the other man go. Lying back in the bed, alone in the dark medical wing again, his thoughts all coalesced, uncomfortable and uncertain. Despite that, his sleep came fast and easy, his book forgotten in the chair beside his bed. In the few days that followed, his routine continued, with only tiny changes here and there.

Again, he walked by the corridor leading into Nolan's office. Hardin caught his eye, and glared at him with all the disdain he could muster.

 _You know what? Why not. I'm not afraid of this guy. He's just a jerk with a hair problem._ Emboldened with that thought, he strode past the Head Paladin like he owned the place and almost immediately forgot about the unpleasant man as he emerged into the office. Now that he wasn't blinded with pain, he was better able to appreciate the area - it wasn't beautiful, per se, but it was definitely impressive in a sense. Or maybe that was the gigantic replica sword on the wall behind Nolan.

"Arcade?" The Elder looked at him, but didn't seem all that surprised. "I'd wondered if I'd see you here eventually. I'm sorry - I'd offer you a seat, but I'm afraid there are none quite within reach. Was there something you needed?"

Tearing his gaze from the enormous electronic map on the wall, he offered Nolan a small smile and a shrug. "Just wanted to see the wise man at work, I guess. I can see how you get such a good tan, sitting at a desk in a hole in the ground and staring at documents all day."

A paladin by the door glanced over as Nolan stifled a laugh, politely covering his mouth with his hand and pretending he was coughing. Arcade didn't miss the mirth in his eyes, though. "What can I say? I am blessed with many fine qualities, I suppose... including naturally snowy hair."

"Oh, give it up." He looked back at the sword, taking in every magnificent detail. "You weren't kidding when you said you loved swords, huh?"

"Absolutely. It is a fine replica."

"You do realize this is the part where I make a joke about you having your giant sword on display for everyone to see?"

Nolan's hand went back over his mouth, tactfully turning around in his chair so the paladin at the door couldn't see his expression. "Is that why you can't tear your eyes away from it, then?"

Arcade started in surprise. " _What?_ Oh, god. You've been spending too much time with me. I'm a bad influence."

The Elder smiled warmly at him, more carefree than Arcade ever remembered seeing him thus far. "I believe this is where we agree to disagree, again?" That look on his face vanished, though, as a young girl in plain, dark robes ran up to the desk, stammering a hurried apology for interrupting him. "It's fine - do not worry yourself over it. What seems to be the matter?"

Her face was full of urgency. Arcade noted she couldn't have been older than fourteen or fifteen - a novice of some sort, though he still wasn't overly familiar with the Brotherhood hierarchies. "I was supposed to do some more studying on medicine with Pontiac today, but he's really sick. Macy says I can't even see him for the rest of the week, and the others trained in medicine won't help me. They said they're too busy! I don't know what I should do, I -" She stopped mid-sentence as Nolan held a hand up to quiet her, but Arcade spoke first.

"I can probably teach you whatever you were learning." Both of them looked over at him with surprise - and the girl had a hint of nervousness, too. "I'd like to do something to help around here. Besides, I'm a halfway decent doctor. Most of the time."

Nolan nodded towards the girl, and she tucked a strand of mousy brown hair behind an ear. "Will you accept his offer, Catherine?"

"O-of course! Thank you, Elder! And you too, uh... Doctor... Mister... Brother..."

"Arcade. Just Arcade is fine!"

She smiled up at him, grabbing his arm and leading him from the chamber, talking a million miles an hour about her lessons, about how much she wanted to be a medic, a torrent of good nature and gratitude. As she led him away, he didn't see Nolan wave, and he didn't see Hardin's suspicious stare burning a hole in his back.

* * *

 

He spent several hours going over basic procedures for treating broken bones with Catherine, who seemed impressed and in awe at his arm, still in a sling for a few more days. He found he actually enjoyed it more than he thought - teaching wasn't so bad, especially an innocent, eager kid that wanted nothing more to learn how to help people. He reflected that the mousy girl's exuberance almost seemed out of place in the bunker, but kept it to himself.

It was with a tired sigh that he sat on his bed, glancing over at the terminal nearby and realizing that if Nolan had indeed stopped by, he'd definitely missed him - it was quite late at this point. Standing again, he stretched a little, and decided a walk couldn't hurt - the bunker was quiet now, since most of the chapter was sleeping. It would give him more time to think, make it easier to observe. He reached for an unopened bottle of water and set out, hoping his footsteps weren't quite as loud as they sounded to him.

Wandering past the the terminal hub areas that he usually walked around, he found himself in a corridor with a single closed door. It was likely locked, and he wasn't keen on going into random doors at this time of night - but he peered at it anyway, curious and wondering.

Until it opened, quite suddenly.

He found himself face to face with Nolan, who was obviously surprised, but then smiled a little coyly. "Well, Arcade. This is... unusual, to say the least."

"Uh - about that. I promise I'm not stalking you. I just finished the lesson with Catherine a while ago, and was walking around since I'm not exactly tired, yet. I didn't realize this was your room. Despite the whole creepy aspect to me staring at your door like I could open it with my mind. Promise."

The other man chuckled. "Worry not. I was just leaving to fetch some water - did you want to walk with me?"

"Actually - here." He pushed the bottle he'd been holding into the Elder's hands. "I'm not that thirsty, anyway. It was more of a just in case thing. Not that I was planning on giving it to you - more like if I got thirsty while I was walking. Not to be nosy, but to - oh, never mind. God." He stared at the ceiling, pretending it was interesting. Anything to avoid the embarrassment that he knew was plain on his face.

Nolan just laughed. "Come on in and sit with me for a bit? I had another book I wanted to give to you, anyway." He turned and walked back into the room, and the doctor followed him wordlessly.

The room wasn't anything spectacular - a plain, large bed, noticeably softer and more comfortable than the others he'd seen in the bunker so far. An ornate sword rested on hooks on the wall, above a desk with a chair, a terminal and several books. A shelf full of literature and weaponry and gadgets was on the other side, but other than a dresser, the room was otherwise plain. "Have a seat," Nolan said, gesturing at the single chair. He sat on the edge of the bed, taking a long drink of the water. "It seems our roles in our daily visit have reversed this time! Ah, but how did the lesson with the novice go?"

"It was pretty good, actually. I told her I'd teach her while her mentor was ill - if that's all right with you?" And there they stayed, the time passing by like it was nothing at all. He left much later, and sleep came quickly to him. The following day, Nolan stopped by just before his lesson with Catherine, leaving him another book before hurrying off to his office. Arcade's small twinge of disappointment quickly vanished when he pulled a note from between the pages again, a slow smile spreading on his face as he read.

_Feel free to visit me once more tonight after your business is finished._

* * *

 

Several days passed, and he found himself growing more and more comfortable in the bunker. _Ridiculous, but there you have it. I always was a bit of a black sheep._ Every night, now, he ate dinner with Catherine and taught her, visiting Nolan after his work was done. Once her mentor was well again, she had no more need of his training, but she was continuing to stop in during the day before her lessons to offer him a smile and brief conversation. He found himself a bit sad - he'd really enjoyed it quite a bit. If nothing else, his reputation with the other members seemed to have improved slightly.

For the most part, anyway.

Every time he passed by Hardin, he thought the man looked a little more angry, a little more high strung. He brushed it off as nothing, and refused to mention it to Nolan, who had asked him quite casually to just meet him every night thereafter in his room - it was easier, he explained, and more comfortable for the both of them. Arcade certainly wasn't about to refuse, but had to wonder what Veronica would say if she found out - _and she'll be back with Isaac any day now, come to think of it._

It was quite late as usual as Arcade strolled through the eerie, empty halls, another book in hand to return to Nolan. His mind wandered in ten directions at once, and he didn't notice Hardin stepping out from behind a door until he almost ran straight into him.

"Whoa. Oh - hey there." Blinking, Arcade tried to keep the irritation off of his face and remain neutral. "Excuse me. Didn't see you there -"

Wordlessly, and without warning, the older man lunged at him.

Caught off guard, Arcade put up no defense at all as Hardin slammed him against the cold metal wall, his arm pinning the Follower by the throat. The paladin increased the pressure, cutting off Arcade's breathing, beginning to slowly suffocate him as he struggled for air. His heart beat like a hammer in his chest, and Hardin's eyes were filled with nothing but venom and hatred as he spoke in a barely controlled anger, turning Arcade's blood to ice.

"I know your secret, you piece of scum."


	5. Chapter 5

Arcade's mind immediately went into panicked overdrive. How the hell could he know? How could he -

Hardin applied a burst of force, slamming the Follower against the wall again and continuing to pin him - he was still having trouble breathing properly, but he wasn't worried about blacking out, at least. "You're looking a little scared, Doctor Gannon. I have the feeling you know exactly what I'm talking about." He smiled, but there was no mirth on his face. "Of course you do."

"Y-you're right," he gasped. "It couldn't - have anything to do - with the ass in power armor - trying to kill me -"

The Head Paladin snarled, applying another burst of force. Arcade made a strangled noise, his glasses askew on his face. "You might have McNamara fooled, but you can't trick me. Trying to seduce him - what are you playing at?"

"I... _what?_ "

Hardin's expression grew only nastier. "Please. Visiting him at work, at his room, at any hours of day and night. You volunteer to teach a novice in his presence like it's going to earn you some kind of gratitude. You do all of this, and you turn down my request for aid to oust him from his position of power. Are you after controlling this chapter yourself, _outsider?_ "

Arcade stared at him, wide-eyed; it seemed his mouth wouldn't properly work. "You're - you're crazy. You're out of your mind -"

"I've _seen_ the way you _look_ at him," Hardin hissed, his pressure on Arcade faltering for a moment. "Don't try and fool me, you -"

Taking the split second available to him, Arcade lurched like he was going to be sick. Hardin backed off, just a hair - and the doctor reversed the lurching motion and lunged, punching him in the face with all his strength, immediately slipping under the larger man's arm and running as fast as he could manage toward McNamara's room, which wasn't very far off. His breathing was ragged, his vision unfocused as he hadn't fixed his glasses, but he couldn't take any time to stop. He could hear Hardin's heavy, quick footsteps behind him, pounding against the metal flooring. Arcade realized he would likely be far less gentle if he caught him a second time. _It's not far... it's not far..._

He skidded to a stop in front of Nolan's door, desperately knocking as quickly and loudly as he could. A moment later, it opened - there was Nolan, looking at him with alarm and concern. "Arcade? What happened?"

Without answering, he put his hand on Nolan's hip, steering him backwards and to the side while he pushed into the room, turning and shutting the door with shaking hands, sliding the bolt home just as Hardin caught up, slamming his fist into the metal and swearing loudly.

"Before we get into this, I want to say that yes, I punched your highest ranking officer in the nose," Arcade said as he leaned against the wall, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breathing. "But only because he was accusing me of being a harlot. And there may have been some physical violence that he used an an opener to his interesting accusations."

_"OPEN. THIS. DOOR."_

"See? The man needs a drink." Arcade looked at Nolan, apology in his eyes. A large, ugly bruise was already becoming visible on his neck. "Oh, God, he isn't going to leave." He closed his eyes, still trying to catch his breath - when he heard Nolan slide the latch from the lock. "Wh-"

He opened the door, standing there with a look of cold anger on his face, Hardin right in front of him. "I'd like to know the meaning of this, Head Paladin," he said, very quietly.

"You are hiding a piece of scum in your room, Elder, and I suggest you lead him here so that I may deal with him properly." He chuckled darkly. "Don't you realize why he clings to you so?"

Nolan took another step forward. Though he was a little smaller than Hardin, he exuded authority that Arcade hadn't even been sure he was capable of. "That is _my_ business, Head Paladin Hardin. Now, I suggest that you examine your attitude and actions before I feel I must take some of my own. I will not have you harming anyone in this bunker unless they are proven to have committed some unforgivable wrongdoing. Do _not_ lay hands on this man _ever again_. Have I made myself clear?"

Hardin's expression turned icy, and he bit back fury and disgust as he replied. "Yes. Of course." Without another word, he spun on his heel and stalked away; Nolan shut the door behind him, sliding the bolt through the lock once more before turning to face Arcade. He walked right up to him, peering at him with an expression the Follower couldn't begin to read. He was suddenly much more aware of the cold wall against his back, of how close the Elder was to him.

"I apologize," Nolan said quietly. He raised a hand to Arcade's neck, fingers stopped just an inch away from his pale skin. "Are you badly hurt?"

"I've... I've had worse." He swallowed, all his uncertainty crashing down again. "Sorry about that."

Nolan didn't meet his eyes, but trailed his hand gently down the bruised skin; Arcade tried his hardest not to shiver, not to think about anything indiscreet. "I assume he was accusing you of seducing me, based on his choice of words. Perhaps he thought it some kind of threat to this chapter. He and I see eye to eye on very little, these days."

The silence lingered for a moment, heavy and awkward. "...Yeah. Basically. I can promise I'm not a threat to the bunker. If you've noticed, I'm a researcher, not a commando. And my silver tongue won't win me any awards. So I'm pretty sure you can all rest easy tonight."

There it was - a quirk at the edge of the Elder's lips, a glint in his eyes. "I see. But you do not deny that you are attempting to seduce me."

"I -" Suddenly, his heart was beating fast, again. _Oh God, am I flirting with a leader of the Brotherhood? I am. I'm really crazy._ He took in every detail of the other man, his gaze falling on his lips. "I wouldn't say that. I'm not really _attempting_ anything, per se."

"Hoping, then?" Nolan's eyes met his, and Arcade found he couldn't look away. "I'd be quite the liar if I said I wasn't flattered, Arcade." He pulled his hand away, smiling wistfully. "Perhaps you should rest. It's late, and your bruise looks quite painful."

"I - I guess?" He tried to hide the disappointment in his tone, rubbing the back of his head. "Here. It's the book you gave me a couple of days ago."

Nolan took it, walking over to his shelf and placing it on top, picking up another and looking at it for a moment before handing it to Arcade, who had moved to unlatch the door. "There you are. Now, please... get some rest, Arcade. You've had quite a night, and I'm sure there's much on both of our minds."

 _Tell me about it._ "Yeah, sure. I'll, uh... see you around then, I guess."

"You say it as though it will be a long time! You're welcome here again tomorrow, of course. In fact, I'd quite like it if you stopped by. Consider it a personal request, if you will."

"What? Of course. ...'Night."

The trip back to the empty medical room passed in a blur. Hardin, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen; Arcade probably wouldn't have even noticed his approach, as absorbed as he was in his own thoughts. Back in his own bed, he stared at the ceiling, thoughts turning into speculation which turned into fantasy. He closed his eyes, thinking again of the curve of those lips. What could a little indulgence hurt?

He gave into his own desire for the first time in what felt like far too long. It was a while before he fell asleep.

* * *

 

The next day found him being anything but productive.

He sat in the room, book open but his concentration elsewhere. A million thoughts raced through his mind, and he tried to squash the anticipation building in his gut, but failed - his mind kept wandering to his meeting later with Nolan.

 _Isaac and Veronica will be back soon. We'll be fighting for the Dam any day now, and who knows what could happen then, what could happen afterwards._ He stared at the wall, head in his hands. _It's not wrong. Is it? He totally started it. Oh God, this is ridiculous. Whatever happens will happen._ He turned a page in his book, determined to actually read it.

At least, he was until there was a polite knock on the door.

"I'm coming!" He kept the book in hand, and opened the door, expecting to see perhaps a doctor or someone checking on him.

He certainly didn't expect it to be Nolan. But there he was, standing in the doorway. Arcade backed up and let him into the room, saying nothing. "Hello, Arcade. I hope you don't mind me stopping in a bit early." He drew closer to the Follower, who had been in the process of fumbling with the latch; Nolan placed his hand over his and slid it shut, his smile growing wider.

"I had a few things I wanted to discuss privately, you see."


	6. Chapter 6

He tried hard not to swallow as the Elder leaned in close. "Oh... I see."  _I am a smooth operator. God._

Nolan's smile was sad and wistful. "A war is coming very soon, and I know you don't plan on staying here, locked away with the Brotherhood while it rages. You'll be leaving with the others when they return, will you not?" He stared into Arcade's eyes as he said it, and as the Follower tried to look away, the Elder gently reached out and grasped his chin, turning his face back towards his. "Arcade, please. I know you plan on leaving."

"I won't do anyone any good staying here," he whispered. "I can't save people here. I can't kill the Legion here."

"Why must you do anything?" Nolan replied quietly, leaning closer as he said it. "Why must you go? What difference would one man make?" Arcade's breath caught in his throat. Nolan had him cornered against the wall near the door now, his face mere inches from the Follower's. There was the beginning of fear in the Elder's pale blue eyes.

"If I stay behind near the fighting as a doctor, there are plenty of lives I could save. And if I decide to fight... every member of the Legion that I kill is one less bastard that can plague New Vegas." His voice steadied a little, and he had a startling moment of clarity. "You don't want me to die. Is that it?"

Those blue eyes bore into him, their intensity rising. "You can administer aid after the Legion is pushed away. You can remain in the bunker until the war is finished."

He'd be lying to himself if he'd said a small part of him wasn't tempted, but Arcade had worked far too hard with Isaac and his group to step back during the crux of events for independence. "I've done nothing my entire life, Nolan. And if the Legion overruns the Mojave, even this bunker can't stay safe forever." His eyes wandered away from the other man's, though his hand still rested on his face, his back still firmly but gently against the cold wall. "I'll come back after the fighting's over, if it means so much to you. It's not like you'd have to beg me or anything, you know I -"

"What if you  _don't_  return?" His voice was rising now. "You cannot return to the bunker if you are a pile of ash, Arcade. You cannot return if your body is piled high in a heap with countless others, forgotten and gone. You cannot return if you die."

"I'm not going to -"

"You don't  _know_  that!" Nolan's fist slammed into the wall beside him, all traces of composure gone. Regret and shame instantly flooded the man's expression, and he backed away just a touch, his eyes on the floor. "You don't know that," he said more quietly, almost a whisper.

Arcade said nothing, taken aback by the uncharacteristic display of emotion. Veronica had mentioned Nolan was different after HELIOS One, and it was obvious in the way he held his chapter away from the world. The man was terrified of losing more members of the Order. Terrified of losing more members of his family.

And for some reason, it seemed he was terrified of losing Arcade as well.

"I apologize," the Elder whispered. "I did not come here to behave poorly this way. I wished to convince you to stay, however... I know that won't happen, now." His hand still rested on Arcade's face, his skin warm to the touch. "I do not want to lose you, Arcade. We have known each other but a month or so, but for the first time in years, I have a friend I can speak with freely. Someone that I do not need to follow protocol and tradition with. And he is an incredible man of both intelligence and character. I just... I wish for more time with you. Without a war. Without the risk of losing any chance of something... more, happening."

The Follower managed a strained smile, full of longing. Regret was heavy in his pale green eyes. "Something more?"

Nolan laughed, but it sounded hollow. "You know full well what I mean." His eyes strayed from Arcade's for a moment before returning. "I am, perhaps, simply a very selfish fool."

"No." The word left the doctor's mouth before it even registered in his mind. "No. You're just scared, and I understand why."

He drew closer to Arcade at that, his lips curving into the faintest of sad smiles. "Is that so? Well, I do have one more request of you, then." His thumb traced gently down the paler skin of Arcade's face, so close that the outsider could see every detail of the Elder's intense eyes as he leaned in even further, his gaze flickering to his mouth. "Would you... grant me the honor?" he whispered.

"God, yes, I -"

His lips took Arcade's before the man could finish whatever sentence he'd been formulating; it was firm but gentle, his breath ghosting over the Follower's nose, hand still firmly on his cheek, the other running gently through his hair, mussing it slightly. A shiver passed through Arcade, a fire of want and an ache of longing echoing in his chest. Their lips parted after a moment, but Nolan did not move away; he simply rested his forehead against Arcade's, closing his eyes and sighing.

"Don't forget... this," Nolan said quietly after a moment, a hand sliding down to rest on the doctor's neck. "We don't have time for - anything else. I like to think I am an honorable man, though I am certain to have my flaws, as any other. I desire you, and I know you are aware of this, but we do not have the time. We do not have the luxury. It will have to remain but a promise."

Arcade struggled to regain his composure, ignoring the ache, the need. "Don't - don't have time? Why? What's happened?"

Nolan smiled again, sad as ever. "Isaac and Veronica have been spotted in the distance. They are on their way as we speak."

* * *

"Listen to these tapes, Elder. Everything Isaac's said from the knights is right on those recordings. The NCR sucks in more ways than one, now."

He played them back as Veronica stood, arms crossed, with Isaac at her side. Arcade stood near the courier, curious and anxious. Detailed reports, from Nolan's own trusted scouts, of the NCR's weakness. Of how thinly they were spread. Of how shaky their grasp on the Mojave was, on how low their supplies were, on how they couldn't even take back a prison overrun by what any Brotherhood paladin would consider common criminals.

After the last recording finished, Nolan steepled his fingers together, and the moment hung in a heavy silence as he thought. "It seems," he said, very quietly, "that there are some things that need to be considered here." He gave Veronica a meaningful glance before resting his gaze on Isaac. "It seems the NCR is not the threat I believed. I thought my actions were guided by caution and prudence, but now I see the truth. It is something I have been suspecting; that I have been on the wrong track. People called me a hero after HELIOS One, but I left the battle scarred by fear, and this weakness has controlled my leadership of this chapter."

He looked to Arcade for a moment - a brief moment - before returning his gaze to Isaac and Veronica. "This ends now. I will undo the wrong I have done my brethren, and lift the lockdown. With luck, we will once again flourish, in time."

A huge smile spread over Veronica's face, and Arcade found he shared a similar expression. "Hell yes, Elder! That's what I'm talking about. You're seriously awesome -"

"There is... one more matter, in regards to this," he interrupted, holding up a hand to quiet her. She looked bewildered. "The lockdown has lifted, yes. We know the NCR is weakened in the Mojave and the Brotherhood is the least of its concerns. You have already graciously informed me of the robots that await your orders to assist you at the Dam and in the Strip, and you have enlisted the aid of the Khans and Boomers."

Isaac shrugged, running a hand through his ginger hair. "Basically. We're gonna need all the help we can get. The NCR's got numbers, sure, but they're ragged. Gonna get our groups and the Securitrons to help them, to push the Legion out... and then it's time for the NCR to go back to their own home. Best we can do."

Nolan looked grim. "The Brotherhood will not make its reemergence into the Mojave by crawling out from the lockdown after this battle has been fought. Your chances sound good, I will give you that. But you must make sure the Legion is defeated, and then still have the strength to expel the NCR completely. No. The Brotherhood of Steel will assist you in the fight for Hoover Dam."

Veronica was taken aback. " _What_?"

"A small squad of elite veterans with two combat medics on hand will do. We will not play a large part, but our presence shall be known, and we will support you personally through the field if need be." Nolan tapped his fingers on the holotapes. "I suggest you tie up any other loose ends before the fighting truly begins. You said a few weeks now, at most?"

"Four, if we're lucky," Isaac said.

"I see. Feel free to rest here, if you must - I cannot thank you enough for what you've done for the Brotherhood."

"Wait." All heads turned towards Isaac. "One more thing. We talked to an NCR colonel while up top. Ragged as they are, she still wants you gone. Could be a problem."

Arcade felt his heart skip.  _After all this, d_ _on't give in, please-_

But Nolan was unshaken, only thoughtful. "I suppose it was only a matter of time. However, with the war looming, and considering their current circumstances, I'm certain they'd consider a truce of sorts. We've given up our claim to HELIOS, and we don't have any interest in actually claiming Hoover Dam, so as far as they are aware... our ambitions aren't at crossed purposes. Go back to her, and tell her we are willing to put aside our enmity for the time being." A sly smile tugged at his lips. "Further, tell her that we are willing to send troops to aid in their coming defense of the Dam. My guess is they're in no position to refuse."

Isaac nodded. "Sounds good. She won't be happy about it, but Colonel Moore's not an idiot. No way is she gonna turn that down. And this way, there's no question about a bunch of paladins showing up at the bridge."

"Precisely. We can discuss the plans further tomorrow. Arcade - may I have a word alone?"

Veronica's eyebrows shot up, and the courier didn't bother to hide the smirk on his face as Arcade looked over, a little confused. "What? Yeah. Sure." The other two walked away, stopping a ways into the tunnel area leading to the office. Nolan stood and beckoned Arcade to follow, walking over to the far end of the room where the replica sword gleamed proudly on the wall, and the doctor tried to calm his racing heart. "What's up? I mean, besides the obvious. The whole 'we're going to kick some ass whether they like it or not' thing. I have to admit, I have a burning curiosity, especially considering our... uh... last private discussion."

"Nothing we discussed before has changed, I assure you." He smiled, but there was a hard, frightening edge to it, an unshakable determination in his eyes. "I wanted to let you know personally, before I make the official announcement, that I will be leading that squad at the Dam myself."

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from hiatus! The rest of the story is outlined; likely all that's left is chapters 8 and 9 before we reach the endpoint.

His voice was hardly a whisper. " _What_?"

Nolan's expression remained unchanged. "I am tired of hiding, Arcade. I've been a fool and a coward, and this chapter deserves better. And if I'm present during the fighting... it means I can protect my paladins personally."

The Follower ran a hand through his hair, trying not to pace. He drew closer to the Elder, wary of any prying ears, but it was difficult to keep his voice from rising. "What if something  _happens_  to you-"

"That isn't stopping  _you_ , is it?" he replied coolly.

"It is  _not_  the same thing. I'm just - I'm just _me_ , I'm hardly even a doctor. You're the leader of an  _entire chapter_  of the Brotherhood-"

Nolan's hand shot out and gripped one of Arcade's arms tightly, and he leaned in so close that the doctor could see the pores of his skin. "You. Are.  _Not_. Expendable." A chill raced through Arcade's blood at the unmoving edge in his voice. "None of us are."

Silence hovered between them for just a moment before Arcade made up his mind. "Let me go with you. I mean... I'm going to be there anyway, right? Let me tag along with your group. I can slam a stimpak into anything squirting concerning amounts of blood like a pro."

The corners of Nolan's lips quirked up despite the tension. "As you wish."

"One thing, though."

Nolan looked only a little surprised. "What is it?"

Arcade locked eyes with him, and in a voice heavy with promise, said, "I'll protect you, too."

* * *

Nolan made the official announcement of his leadership of the Dam squad moments later, and directed Initiate Stanton to speak to knights about organizing a more rigorous training schedule. Arcade jogged back over to Isaac and Veronica, the latter of whom was wide-eyed and on the verge of babbling.

"Is he serious? This can't be for real." She cupped her chin with her hands. "Elder's all grown up."

"There's... one more tiny detail." He could feel Veronica and Isaac's curious eyes on him. "I'll be going with his team at the Dam, personally-"

Veronica's smirk went almost to her eyes. "Oh my God. You really are becoming his personal doctor! When are you gonna kiss?"

He balked, indignant. "That's - that is _not important_ -"

"You totally have, haven't you? That's a yes. Look at your face. It hasn't been so red since you got that really hilarious sunburn a couple months ago." Veronica laughed, and Isaac smiled oh-so-politely behind a gloved hand as the doctor huffed and adjusted his coat.

" _Anyway_ , I'll be with them during the fight, but I will be there. I'm going to stay here until then, I guess. It'd make the most sense."

"All right." Isaac clapped a hand to the Follower's shoulder, smiling. He seemed tired, but the spark in his eyes was brighter than it had ever been before. "Come back alive, Arcade. Just promise us that."

He smiled. "That's the plan."

* * *

The weeks that follow were a whirlwind of training and tension.

Arcade, in particular, was wearing himself out learning the ins and outs of wearing and fighting in power armor at Nolan's insistence - while he did know the basics, he wasn't about to admit that to anyone within a hundred mile radius. Shooting targets and running simulations was one thing, but doing it in a suit of armor that weighed a quarter of what you did was another.

Of course, he wasn't the only one working himself to exhaustion. Nolan and the other paladins weren't sloppy, not by a long shot; even before the lockdown rescinded, they trained once a week or more in simulations to stay sharp and fit. But with the war looming on the horizon, they amped it up to each and every day, both for the sake of honing their skills and keeping nerves to a minimum.

Even Isaac and Veronica had stopped in again, very briefly - Nolan had sent them on another quick mission to Black Mountain the day after the lockdown ended, and when they returned, the Elder had extended an offer of Brotherhood membership to Isaac, to the surprise of every last soul in the bunker. He'd accepted, some rushed and informal words were spoken and a suit of complementary power armor put into his arms -  _"Thanks, but this is a bit heavy for me, I think..."_  - and they'd left again to march towards the Dam almost as quickly as they'd gotten there.

And then there was Head Paladin Hardin.

Arcade had spotted him watching the simulations now and then, though he never commented or stayed for long. He wasn't part of the Dam squad - Nolan had said if he fell, someone would have to take his place.

Like Arcade was going to let that happen.

He was just glad Hardin wouldn't be tagging along; that'd make an already bad situation even worse. Running into him after a simulation did little to alleviate that feeling.

"Fair effort. Maybe you'll make it back from Hoover Dam," the older man offered casually as Arcade wiped the sweat from his brow, a lilt of sarcasm in his voice.

Arcade snorted. "Thanks."

Hardin shook his head. "It's good that the Elder... came to his senses. At least, in some ways." His lip curled, just a little. "Bringing an outsider to a war is an interesting choice. Forging a truce with the NCR of all people is another. And allowing your courier to become a Brotherhood member... Well. I suppose we'll just have to see what happens."

"I really appreciate the vote of confidence. You would not  _believe_  how worried I was about your thoughts on all this. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do." He brushed past him without another word, taking an extra bit of vicious joy in the fact that he was headed straight towards Nolan's room. _Call me an outsider all you want, you still can't choke me out anymore._

His energy seemed to renew itself the closer he got to the Elder's, until finally, he was knocking on his door. It opened almost immediately, and he stepped inside with a tired smile to mirror Nolan's. Wordlessly, they sat down beside one another. It was Nolan that broke the silence.

"I'm glad you'll be with me for this." He faltered for a moment, and his brow furrowed as he continued. "I'd rather you stayed here, away from the fighting - you know that. But if you must go... I want you by my side." He reached over, placing one of his hands gently over Arcade's. "I suppose that not all of the old fear is gone. I don't know if it ever will be."

"Maybe. But you've come a long way." He looked into those tired, pale eyes and smiled, just a little. "For what it's worth, I'm proud of you. God, that sounds condescending, I'm sorry. But, really. Facing your fears is... it's hard. And you're doing it, in the middle of a war between the NCR and Legion, no less. That's pretty impressive, if you ask me." He took the hand on top of his between both of his own. "And I'll be fine, because you'll be there. Just like you'll be fine with me and the rest of your paladins."

Nolan sighed, reaching forward with his free hand. His calloused fingers brushed against Arcade's temple, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. "If it... isn't too much to ask, I'd like you to stay the night with me." A old, weary sadness sat upon his shoulders. "I should like to hold you close before we walk into hell."

_You have no idea how amazing that sounds._  Feeling particularly bold, Arcade caught his hand and brought it gently to his lips.

"You don't have to ask twice," he whispered.

* * *

_Maybe InstaMash for breakfast wasn't the best idea today._

Arcade's stomach churned uneasily. He was shot through with nerves as he checked his plasma defender and borrowed laser rifle for the hundredth time; he pulled his helmet on as the sixteen paladins surrounding him did the same. A huge group of of scribes, knights and initiates had gathered behind them as Nolan stood in front of the exit, helmet off and speech at the ready.

"Brothers and sisters. War is upon the Mojave. For too long, I have confined us to the shadows, and we have stagnated in darkness as the world above went to chaos." His gaze swept the crowd. "That ends now. We will go forth, and take back the Dam - from the Legion, and the NCR. We will rise again to the light of the outside world, but we will not do it in cowardice. This squad and I will fight - not just for you, but for everything we stand for." A smile quirked at his lips, his brow set in determination. "The Brotherhood shall be victorious once more, for the first time in far too long. And when we return, it will be from a Mojave free of the bull and two-headed bear." He held a hand to his chest, clad all in shining metal armor. "Steel be with you!"

The gathering roared back with a righteous vigor the walls had not heard for years and years. " _Steel be with you_!"

Nolan pulled his helmet on and turned as the doors opened.

They walked forward into the Mojave - ready, willing, prepared to fight.

* * *

The march forward to the Dam was steady and took but three days.

Eyes of many an NCR soldier landed upon them, heavy and scrutinizing, but none drew their weapons - the truce, it seemed, was holding strong.  _Desperate times call for desperate measures... and good men double-crossing,_  Arcade mused.

They made camp that night on the NCR side of the Dam, and still met no resistance or questions, though if dirty looks could kill they'd all be six feet under. Arcade and Nolan slept right beside one another - to the doctor's surprise, every member of the squad was either too tactful or distracted to even say anything about it.

Days later, as the sirens of the first tide of the war began to toll, as the sun beat down on the steel shells of the Brotherhood and their black sheep in power armor, Arcade Gannon's mind went a million miles an hour, a hundred different routes - and one thought in particular stood out to him.

_Wonder what Dad would think if he saw me now._


End file.
